Looking into the eyes
This story is fan fiction- none of the following text is contained within J.K Rowling's books, and is all written by me, it is all from my imagination, and is a small scene which plays over and over in my head.
Please read and enjoy. I really hope you do...
By Joe.
As Hagrid had said three years ago, what would come would come, and he would have to meet it when he did. And now, standing here, staring into the dark, evil eyes of Lord Voldemort, cornered like his parents once had been, that statement came back to him- although now, what would come had come, and he had to meet it now, he had to face up to it.
The darkness couldn't become any worse, but even so, it did become more tense and uncomfortable to Harry, and fear built up deep inside him. Voldemort's expression, however, was grim and had no sign of backing away at all. He said nothing, and neither did Harry, the only things which held conversation were the looks on their faces.
But then, Harry spoke.
'Voldemort... Why are you so intent on killing me?'
Voldemort glared at him with his snake-eyes, and then hissed, 'Harry Potter... such a bright and thoughtful boy, so unique, so popular among his fellow students... among his best allies, including, of course, the mud blood and the confused and misunderstood Ron Weasley... Really, Harry Potter, one day you will be full of guilt that you didn't choose my very loyal death eaters son as a friend. But wait, that day wont come, will it?'
He laughed in a horrid tone, making croaking noises in his throat as if he was choking, but as much as Harry wanted him to die from it; he knew there was a slim chance.
'Malfoy is as bad as his father, but no more!' said Harry, 'Not as bad as you. I didn't choose him as a friend because he hated Ron, and he wasn't the sort of person I was looking for. I doubt that he'll ever reach the point of anguish or disturbance!'
'You are saying that I am disturbed? That I am confused and just evil because of my own pain? No, no, I think it is you, Harry Potter, who is the confused one. Look at you, standing there, trying to be courageous like you have done these last few years...
'But underneath of you, Potter, there is a coward quivering alone in a lost world of his own. You try to cover it up by trying to be friendly to your "companions," your "friends," When I was a student at Hogwarts, I had not one friend. I didn't need them, people could always sense something in me, and I knew they were scared. Even if I was a... "Good" student, I always had the "evil", as you say, in me, although I refer to it as power over others.'
Harry knew that Voldemort was just trying to weaken him mentally, so he ignored what Voldemort said, and just replied with, 'you know nothing.'
'See, Harry Potter, when I come out with a strong, weakening sentence like that, you know that I am right, so again, you cover up your thoughts by just simply saying the most simple thing you can think of...'
'No.' said Harry. 'The things I say are things that I mean to say. Things that I think of beforehand. I don't know why you killed my mother and father, but I shall certainly try to punish you for what you have done!'
'Punish?' laughed Voldemort, 'Punish me? I doubt that very much, Potter, since you are just like your father... you act like you want to fight, but you cannot, when I killed your mother, your father was cowering in fear. He begged to live, Potter, he begged for his life.'
Harry ignored the last line, and yelled, 'I have fought, though! I've encountered you about seven times now, and I've escaped from you each time, as well!'
'Which brings us back to the main reason of why are here, Harry Potter, why we are standing here in my own dark nowhere, my own dark world made by my powers come to life. To finally kill you. There is no Albus Dumbledore to save you now. No mud bloods, no friends, no companions. Just you and me...'
Harry glared at Voldemort.
'...and, of course, my trustful wand, containing a phoenix feather from that horrid animal of Dumbledore's. It looks like your phoenix friend won't be joining you again, Potter, and you won't be pulling a sword out of any sorting hat any time soon.
'I must not waste my time now, Harry Potter, although being immortal myself, why should I need it?'
'You don't deserve time, Voldemort. You don't deserve life,' said Harry, positioned up straight now, knowing that if he had to take pain, he had to take it standing. He watched Voldemort reach inside his robes, and slowly take out his wand. Being disarmed, he knew all he could do was take what pain he could. He felt a strong sense of adult him now, and felt nothing like the Harry which had been introduced to the magical world seven years ago by his good friend, Hagrid.
The darkness shrouded Harry into a state of courage. The young man stood up and looked into his archenemy's vile eyes, thinking of Hermione and Ron, Dumbledore, even Malfoy, all his friends and all his companions, even minor enemies, and most of all, his parents.
'I love you two,' he whispered to himself, smiling.
The Dark Lord, Voldermort, You-know-who, he-who-shall-not-be-named, pointed his wand at Harry Potter, "the boy who lived".
'Avada Kedavra!!' he cried.
This story is fan fiction- none of the following text is contained within J.K Rowling's books, and is all written by me, it is all from my imagination, and is a small scene which plays over and over in my head.
Please read and enjoy. I really hope you do...
By Joe.
As Hagrid had said three years ago, what would come would come, and he would have to meet it when he did. And now, standing here, staring into the dark, evil eyes of Lord Voldemort, cornered like his parents once had been, that statement came back to him- although now, what would come had come, and he had to meet it now, he had to face up to it.
The darkness couldn't become any worse, but even so, it did become more tense and uncomfortable to Harry, and fear built up deep inside him. Voldemort's expression, however, was grim and had no sign of backing away at all. He said nothing, and neither did Harry, the only things which held conversation were the looks on their faces.
But then, Harry spoke.
'Voldemort... Why are you so intent on killing me?'
Voldemort glared at him with his snake-eyes, and then hissed, 'Harry Potter... such a bright and thoughtful boy, so unique, so popular among his fellow students... among his best allies, including, of course, the mud blood and the confused and misunderstood Ron Weasley... Really, Harry Potter, one day you will be full of guilt that you didn't choose my very loyal death eaters son as a friend. But wait, that day wont come, will it?'
He laughed in a horrid tone, making croaking noises in his throat as if he was choking, but as much as Harry wanted him to die from it; he knew there was a slim chance.
'Malfoy is as bad as his father, but no more!' said Harry, 'Not as bad as you. I didn't choose him as a friend because he hated Ron, and he wasn't the sort of person I was looking for. I doubt that he'll ever reach the point of anguish or disturbance!'
'You are saying that I am disturbed? That I am confused and just evil because of my own pain? No, no, I think it is you, Harry Potter, who is the confused one. Look at you, standing there, trying to be courageous like you have done these last few years...
'But underneath of you, Potter, there is a coward quivering alone in a lost world of his own. You try to cover it up by trying to be friendly to your "companions," your "friends," When I was a student at Hogwarts, I had not one friend. I didn't need them, people could always sense something in me, and I knew they were scared. Even if I was a... "Good" student, I always had the "evil", as you say, in me, although I refer to it as power over others.'
Harry knew that Voldemort was just trying to weaken him mentally, so he ignored what Voldemort said, and just replied with, 'you know nothing.'
'See, Harry Potter, when I come out with a strong, weakening sentence like that, you know that I am right, so again, you cover up your thoughts by just simply saying the most simple thing you can think of...'
'No.' said Harry. 'The things I say are things that I mean to say. Things that I think of beforehand. I don't know why you killed my mother and father, but I shall certainly try to punish you for what you have done!'
'Punish?' laughed Voldemort, 'Punish me? I doubt that very much, Potter, since you are just like your father... you act like you want to fight, but you cannot, when I killed your mother, your father was cowering in fear. He begged to live, Potter, he begged for his life.'
Harry ignored the last line, and yelled, 'I have fought, though! I've encountered you about seven times now, and I've escaped from you each time, as well!'
'Which brings us back to the main reason of why are here, Harry Potter, why we are standing here in my own dark nowhere, my own dark world made by my powers come to life. To finally kill you. There is no Albus Dumbledore to save you now. No mud bloods, no friends, no companions. Just you and me...'
Harry glared at Voldemort.
'...and, of course, my trustful wand, containing a phoenix feather from that horrid animal of Dumbledore's. It looks like your phoenix friend won't be joining you again, Potter, and you won't be pulling a sword out of any sorting hat any time soon.
'I must not waste my time now, Harry Potter, although being immortal myself, why should I need it?'
'You don't deserve time, Voldemort. You don't deserve life,' said Harry, positioned up straight now, knowing that if he had to take pain, he had to take it standing. He watched Voldemort reach inside his robes, and slowly take out his wand. Being disarmed, he knew all he could do was take what pain he could. He felt a strong sense of adult him now, and felt nothing like the Harry which had been introduced to the magical world seven years ago by his good friend, Hagrid.
The darkness shrouded Harry into a state of courage. The young man stood up and looked into his archenemy's vile eyes, thinking of Hermione and Ron, Dumbledore, even Malfoy, all his friends and all his companions, even minor enemies, and most of all, his parents.
'I love you two,' he whispered to himself, smiling.
The Dark Lord, Voldermort, You-know-who, he-who-shall-not-be-named, pointed his wand at Harry Potter, "the boy who lived".
'Avada Kedavra!!' he cried.